


One or the Other

by A_Z_a_z



Category: X-Men (Comicverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Cheating, Drama, F/M, Heartbreak, Heavy Angst, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2019-01-27 16:30:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12586016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Z_a_z/pseuds/A_Z_a_z
Summary: In a retake of Morrison's New X-Men, Scott confesses to Jean about his unsavory relations with Emma. A tense, painful conversation ensues between them.Jean-centric feelings. Implied Emma/Scott, Jean/Logan.





	One or the Other

Jean could not tell what Scott was thinking. She wanted to read his mind, but she wouldn't. Of course, she wouldn't.

Still, she could feel the guilt and anxiety he was projecting down their weakened mental link. 

All right. 

So, he had done something and wanted to confess, she assumed.

And if he had gone to the trouble to call her out here, especially in the light of their recent lack of communication...

She watched him walk into the garden and sit on the bench next to her. His gaze was towards the ground. 

This was going to be difficult.

She sighed and set her mouth in a thin line and sat beside him. Her shoulders were tense.

"Hi."

”Hi,” he said back, his gaze continued towards the ground, avoiding any eye contact. 

”Why did you ask me out here?” Jean's voice was flat. Neutral.

Moments passed, and he remained silent.

_God, Scott._

She kept her thoughts carefully locked down, not wanting them to spill over their mental bond. 

_Spit it out already._

She didn't want him to feel her bitterness, or her anger, or the slow, quiet desperation that was eating away at her. 

When had they become like this? What was he going to say? What was there that was worth saying?

Finally she turned her head to look at him, her eyes sharp. She waited for his answer.

”I want you to know I love you,” he said softly. 

Jean saw a tear fall from under his visor. Her eyes softened, and she took his hand and held it.

”I love you, too.”

With her other hand she reached up to wipe the tear off his cheek, her fingers gentle. 

But why was he crying? Scott didn't cry. Scott was the Fearless Leader -- or at least, he usually kept his emotions in tight enough check to prevent tears.

When had he become so weak? She was his wife, his lover, not his mother or -- or some kind of emotional safety net meant to make up for his lack of childhood affection.

He had closed himself off from her these past months, and then he came to her and cried. 

_One or the other, Scott._

She couldn't let him go on like this.

Jean made herself look at him, her gaze on his visor. She felt knots in her stomach but kept her tone even. 

”What are you getting at, Scott?”

“I --” he couldn't finish. 

He brushed his fingers through his hair and tugged at it in frustration.

“I did something stupid with Emma,” he finally let out.

A pause.

She pulled her hands away from him, clasped them in her lap. Sat straight, rigid. Looked at him. 

”You've done something stupid.”

Jean's expression was implacable, and it wasn't a question or a clarification. It was a statement, heavy and deliberate.

”With Frost,” she finished.

There was an undercurrent in her voice and her green eyes now, barely there but dangerous. Anger, deadly and controlled. 

”What, Scott? What did you do?”

“They were just thoughts,” he said.

Jean kept her eyes on him, green shadowed with anger and mistrust. This Scott was not the Scott she'd fallen in love with. The Scott whom she'd grown with, the Scott she had married, the Scott she still loved, had been an honest, upright man. Flawed, but courageous, and always doing the right thing.

“Thoughts? What? Scott, what did you do with her?”

He remained silent. 

Just thoughts? Did he do more with her? How could she trust him now? She was incredulous. Scott did not sneak around. Not like this. Scott was not afraid to own up to his mistakes. Scott loved Jean and would never do anything to hurt her...

She pushed down the disgust and anger that was threatening to spill over to the surface. No, this was partly her fault, too. He hid from her, and she was hurt, and she pushed him away more, and then everything fell apart, and she was angry. And when she was angry she could feel the Phoenix, feeding on her violence.

She was furious anyway, furious that Scott didn't have the courage to come out and tell her what exactly it was that he had done. Not that she didn't know -- she could read it, from the thoughts he was allowing to escape and from his voice and the line of his mouth, but it was the principle of the thing.

"Why?" She shook her head at him.

Jean fought down a surge of guilt. She was angry, yes, but she didn't really have much room to accuse Scott, considering...

She tried hard not to remember what she had almost done with Logan - would have done, if he hadn't said no and told her to go back to Scott - the night before. Was she at fault for that? She hadn't been completely in her right mind. It had been dark, and she had been lonely...

Though guarded and tense, she felt Scott’s mind open up to her in their weakened mental link and let her telepathy slide into his mind. Not being able to suppress a flare of rage, she caught a glimpse of Scott, with Emma, her mouth at his ear, her hands...

Scott felt lonely, too. The realisation struck her as she swam in his thoughts, the thoughts he allowed her to see. Lost. He felt lost.

"I see." Her voice was soft.

She gently pulled back, both physically and mentally.

“I'm so sorry, Jean,” he held his hands out. He wanted to touch her. “I can't go on like this.”

But something snapped inside Jean. She let it, despite knowing that this wasn't entirely Scott's fault, because she had been keeping this inside for far too long. He was so weak, and she was so very tired, and she just couldn't take it any more.

"It's always about you, isn’t it?" She raised her voice, not caring if anyone else could hear. "How do you feel? What do you want to do?"

She pointed a finger at him, by now too angry to keep herself under control, or take notice of the hot, twisting feeling inside that meant the Phoenix was rearing its hungry head. 

"You're the one in the wrong here, Scott. You cheated, and you come crying to me about it? What do you want? What the hell do you expect me to do? Say I forgive you and pretend nothing happened?"

"Well, that's not how it works." 

She turned away from him, unable to face him any longer, balling her hands into fists in her lap. What had he expected, really? She didn't know, and she didn't know what to do now. For the first time in a long time, Jean realised that nothing about this was under her control. That made her angry, and scared, and confused. She clenched her fists until the nails bit into her palm.

She heard a thump against the brick wall surrounding the garden. Scott had punched the wall.

"Stop that."

She stood up, grabbed his wrist, and yanked him back from the wall. Furious.

"What do you think you're doing, Scott? Seriously, what the hell do you think you're doing?"

He leaned his head against against the wall with his fists clenched. 

“Are you done behaving like … like Logan?”

Jean felt his emotions spike when she said Logan's name, but chose to ignore it, mentally smacking herself on the forehead. Her mistake. Why had she brought him up? She pushed away the slight tinge of guilt that coloured her thoughts. She had not really done anything with Logan. Thoughts, just thoughts...

That was what Scott had said too. About Emma.

No. She would not allow herself to feel guilty. She and Logan did nothing and were nothing like what Scott had just confessed to doing with that woman. 

At the thought, the mental image he had shown her resurfaced and with it her anger. He had cheated. He had cheated on her. She struggled with the emotions. The Phoenix hissed inside, and she silenced it with a fierce mental shout. 

“Dammit, Jean. I've been trying so hard to do the right thing my entire life, and I failed this time. I failed. I'm sorry. I don’t deserve forgiveness, and I'm not expecting anything in return."

She shook her head in disbelief. She wasn't ready to listen to him whining now. Why was he so childish? This was not the Scott she knew. Tired. So tired. Scott had abandoned her for Emma.

“I’m sorry it came out like this. I was supposed to meet Emma today, but I couldn't go on like this, so I had to tell you now.”

"You were supposed to meet Emma? And you tell me this why? You're sorry? And that's it?"

She slapped him across the cheek. Hard.

"God, Scott. I don't know who you are anymore. I thought you were a good man. Thought you would be a good husband. I loved you. Apparently, I was wrong."

They were bitter words and not entirely fair, and Jean knew it. But she was far too angry to care.

Jean wavered, looking at him. Her anger was subsiding, replaced with a sense of disappointment and deep exhaustion.

She debated talking with him telepathically, but that felt … wrong, somehow. She wanted to be sure that they could communicate properly, like real human beings with real voices, instead of having to use their powers as an aid. As a crutch.

Could that have been part of the reason why they were here to begin with? A significant other's ability to enter your mind with a thought encouraged emotional laziness -- the breakdown of communication and the breakdown of a relationship.

"I know I haven't been trying my best either. For us,” Jean said soberly. “And I'm willing to talk about it, but only if you can sit down maturely and talk with me instead of punching walls in anger.”

“I'm sorry,” he repeated, this time managing to look at her face. 

But everything he had just admitted about cheating on her with Emma and the thoughts he shared came rushing through her. So painful. So tired. She felt a headache coming. She shook her head. 

"It's not that simple, Scott."

“I know,” he said quietly.

He looked at her, but she didn't care to look back, her head bowed and fixed on her hands. 

"I … I need time." She couldn't trust herself to be able to be articulate and sincere right now.

He nodded and put his hands in his pockets. 

She watched him go, frowning. He looked miserable and defeated, but she didn't delve into his mind. Maybe she should have. Yeah, spouses were supposed to have trust and faith and all that good stuff. Normally Jean would have been the foremost advocate of that, but Scott had just admitted that he had cheated on her. With Emma.

For God's sake, what was she supposed to do?

She thought she was supposed to feel sad, or angry, or furious. But now she just felt numb and sick. It was too much for her to process in one night, all of it.

Reflexively, she brushed at her shoulder as if to get some imaginary dirt off. Then she got up and walked, very slowly, back up to their room. She would have a shower, a long hot shower, and then she would curl up on her side of the bed and pull the covers over her head and cry for a little while.

Cry herself to sleep. Maybe she would feel better after that.


End file.
